


Glitter and Gold

by KiaraDuperry



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 19,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23092405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiaraDuperry/pseuds/KiaraDuperry
Summary: 'I am flesh and I am bone, rise up, ting ting, like and gold.'
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 30





	1. Summary

Tywin Lannister loves his children. There's not a person in the Seven Kingdoms who doesn't know that. He would deny them nothing. Twins Cersei and Jaime are the perfect lions, and little Maygen is as bright as the sun. 

Tywin Lannister loves his children.

But he doesn't love Tyrion.

No, because the youngest of the Lannister children was born a dwarf. And the Gods only know if Tywin would have loved him had his lady wife Joanna not died to birth the so-called monster. Perhaps then Tyrion would have been raised like a lion, not shunned by his father and elder sister. Had it not been for Maygen and Jaime, only the Gods know what would have happened to him.

But Maygen, Jaime, and Cersei can do no wrong. Not even when both sisters have fallen so deeply in love with their brother, and Jaime returns such feelings. Tywin keeps quiet even when Maygen vows that she'll never marry unless it's to Jaime.

He keeps quiet when King Aerys appoints Jaime to the Kingsguard, because secretly, he is thankful because that means Jaime can marry no one, but specifically not Maygen. He keeps quiet even when Jaime's appointment also means that Tyrion is his heir.

Tywin keeps quiet when time and time again his king denies every offer of Cersei as a bride to Prince Rhaegar. He offers Maygen, even, when the denials become too much. He prays to all the Gods that Maygen will fall for a lord or a knight and not her gallant elder brother. He prays that it is the childish folly of a fourteen-year-old's mind, for sweet Maygen has many prospects among the men of Westeros.

Both Cersei and Maygen are fit to be Queens, both strong in their own ways, both willful, and Cersei is wickedly cunning and intelligent while Maygen is unassuming and charismatic. 

Both Lannister girls shine like glitter and gold, and Gods bless anyone who dares to cross them.


	2. 0.

A girl of six years bites hard at her lip as she follows along behind her siblings. Twins, Jaime and Cersei, eight years old, hold each other by the hands. The bowels of Casterly Rock are bathed in darkness, light creeping through the gaps, just barely allowing the children a view of the winding passage they are following.

"Still there, May?" calls Jaime, voice echoing on the rock walls, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. "You haven't said a word."

"I'm all right," says Maygen, the lie slipping from her lips with ease. It isn't her nature to worry her elder brother.

He is some feet ahead of her, barely visible as Maygen squints to pick out his form in the darkness. His red tunic is a good indication of where he is, a spot of color in the pitch black.

She speeds her pace slightly, staying behind the twins all the same. They know the way better than she does, and she isn't going to risk venturing too far ahead when she hardly knows the destination they have in mind.

Jaime looks back, green eyes coming into Maygen's view. He smiles. "Come on and catch up. We can't have you getting lost. Father would have our heads.

Maygen is quite sure that their lord father would have their heads for being there in the first place, but she doesn't voice these concerns as she hurries to Jaime's other side. He takes hold of her hand as well, fingers twining through hers, holding tight. Maygen is glad of it. Frankly, she needs the encouragement. 

Cersei looks at her little sister, eyes full of something that may just be malice if an eight-year-old could understand such an emotion. Maygen, thankfully, doesn't see. She holds onto Jaime with all the strength that she can muster. And he squeezes her reassuringly.

Maygen's eyes widen when they reach their destination.

The dungeons. Maygen stares into the distance, where a cage sits in the center, holding two lions that had once belonged to their grandfather, Lord Tytos Lannister.

Her voice rises to a squeak as she says, "What are we doing down here?"

Jaime squeezes her again. For a moment he has no words. The dungeons are often where he and his twin find themselves, but Maygen is so dreadfully frightened that he feels the fear set inside himself, as well.

The lions stare at them with placid expressions. They could be ferocious beasts if they ever experienced the world beyond their cage, but now, they are weak, raised in captivity from the time they were cubs.

Cersei thinks that a lion should never be weak. She thinks that Maygen is an example of this, for Maygen cannot be a lion. She is a little bird with wings so weak that she cannot lift off the ground. Maygen is weak and always has been and always will be. 

Sometimes Cersei tells Jaime this, in the dark nights when he sneaks to her bed and they lie there with her head buried in his chest. They are too young to know what it means to love and desire, but they will know soon. She tells him that their little sister will never be as strong as them. That she cares too much for the weak, it's evident in how much she dotes on the twisted monster that their mother died to birth. 

Maygen is no lion.

But it is Maygen who takes the first steps forward, her green eyes so very wide. She holds out a pale hand to the cage, fingertips brushing across the metal bars. "Do they have names?" she asks, and she doesn't look back at her elder siblings as she waits for a response.

It's Jaime who replies. "No," he says. "Grandfather never thought to give them any."

"How sad," says Maygen. Her hand finds the cage's latch. She opens it with trembling fingers.

Jaime reaches for her elbow. Nearly catches her by it before Cersei seizes him by the wrist and pulls him back. "Let her," she says, and so Jaime can only watch as Maygen steps into the cage.

Her hands shake no longer as she raises them to the beasts, letting them sniff at her palms.

Jaime's eyes go wide as one actually dares to nuzzle its head against her hand. Maygen is smiling as she runs her fingers through their golden manes. "I'm a lion, too," she says to them, and Jaime thinks that she must be right because no bird would ever dare to do what she has done, and she is talking to the beasts as if they are one and the same. "You're both beautiful, aren't you? And you both need names."

She scratches them absentmindedly behind the ears as she thinks on it. "Glitter and Gold," she decides.

"How foolish- -" Cersei begins, but Jaime shoots her a look and silences her quickly.

Maygen turns away from her newfound friends, reaching out for Jaime's hand. She takes hold of him with such confidence that he decides that he must follow her.

Cersei reaches for him again, but this time he draws away from her. He lets Maygen pull him into the cage with her, lets her lay his palm on the closest lion's nose. "They won't hurt you," she says, her words a promise, and he thinks that that must be true. If they wouldn't dare to hurt Maygen, they'll be of no harm to him.

Maygen Lannister is only six years old but she is the bravest of all of them.

Jaime hopes that she can remain as such.


	3. Act One

Glitter and Gold

Act One: All that glitters is not gold.


	4. i.

She has been in the wheelhouse for so long that she fears she is going to lose her mind. 

Thirteen-year-old Maygen Lannister has never liked silence. Ever since she was a child, she knew that silence was dangerous. Silence could hold monsters that would rip her to pieces and leave her begging for mercy.

Silence isn't safe, and all that Maygen Lannister wants in life is safety.

A smile plays at her lips as the wheelhouse rolls to a halt.

She has never been to King's Landing. Has never seen the sparkling waters of Blackwater Bay or watched the ravens fly from the Red Keep's rookery. 

And now she will be able to see it in of its glory.

She hears the footsteps approaching and straightens considerably on the velvet cushions inside the wheelhouse. She will need to make a good impression on whoever is coming to greet her.

The door to the wheelhouse opens, and all thoughts of properness and ladylike manners leave her in an instant.

"Jaime!" she cries, and she leaps from the wheelhouse with a grin, throwing her arms around her elder brother and nearly knocking him to the ground.

His arms wrap around her waist, and he spins her in circles, laughing and grinning. "May!" he says. "Gods, it's good to see you."

She is beaming as he lowers her to the ground. "I've missed you," she says.

"I've missed you," Jaime echoes. "I've near gone mad with boredom without your antics."

"Well," says Maygen, smiling brightly, "Now you have me."

"I'll never be bored again."

Maygen's smile never leaves her and she lets Jaime link arms with her. He looks quite handsome, dressed all in red and gold. Golden hair is brushed straight and freshly cut. He has tanned a considerable amount, and his emerald eyes look far brighter.

The capital seems to be treating Jaime Lannister well.

He is newly knighted, and Maygen feels a swell of pride for him, her older brother, the one she has always looked up to. 

"Princess Elia will love you," he is saying, and she has to draw herself from a daze. "She's a kind woman. You'll get on well with her. Queen Rhaella will like you, I'm sure of it. Prince Rhaegar is quiet, but he's kind enough. And King Aerys..." Jaime swallows at that, shaking his head as he lowers his voice. "Let us hope you won't have to spend very much time with his grace."

"Why not?" Maygen asks, the picture of innocence. She doesn't have to see the men who his grace deems to be enemies of the crown, burned alive as he laughs and laughs.

He hopes to all the Gods that she will never have to see that. Jaime Lannister is content to watch his little sister remain so perfectly innocent forever.

He leads her into the Red Keep, his hold on her tight. "Father will be locked in his office all day. You won't see him until tonight, most likely. He's always busy. But he tries to sup with me most nights."

Maygen nods her understanding. Tywin Lannister has never been a man to put aside his work. "It's all right. He's the Hand of the King, he has lots of things to do."

Jaime smiles down at her. "You're too caring for your own good," he says, and he means it. "It'll get you in trouble one day." He means that, too.

Maygen shrugs at that and smiles. She does not know the truth his words hold. Doesn't know that her caring nature will be her doom.

Jaime escorts her down winding hallways, telling her where each one leads, which rooms are down them. They pass the stairway leading to the Tower of the Hand, and Jaime promises that he will take her to visit with their father once she has been properly introduced to Princess Elia.

They find the Dornish princess in her solar, laughing as she sits with two ladies. It is hard to miss the way that an auburn-haired girl's blue eyes fall to Jaime. It is hard to miss the way that her cheeks flush bright pink.

Jaime clears his throat, catching Elia's attention.

Elia smiles. "Ser Jaime," she says. "How nice to see you. This must be little Maygen."

Maygen lowers into a curtsy that she has been practicing since she was old enough to walk, bowing her head. "My princess," she says.

Elia rises from her chair, moving toward her, taking her by the hand. "Please, call me Elia. We will be as good as sisters by the time the week is out. I see no use for the formalities."

"All right," says Maygen. "Elia. Then you may call me Maygen."

With a nod, Elia looks to Jaime. "Thank you for showing her here. I cannot have my newest handmaiden getting lost on her first day. She is lucky to have a brother here."

Jaime offers her a smile. The Lannister and the Martell have grown friendly in the time since his knighting. If the Kingsguard are busy caring for his grace, it is Jaime who watches over the Dornish princess. He is almost sure that it is meant as an insult; he has only been a knight for a month, surely not prepared enough to guard their future queen, but he takes his duties seriously. "Have Prince Doran and Prince Oberyn written lately?"

"They reply to all of my letters," Elia answers, and there is a sadness in her voice that Jaime feels as well when he receives letters from Cersei. "But it is not the same. You must understand, being so far from your other sister."

To that, Jaime nods. "Yes," he says. "I certainly do understand. But May here will make it better."

Elia's smile is bright as the sun. "I will let you two speak later. For now, I would like to get to know her. Do you mind, Ser Jaime?"

"Of course not," Jaime says. He lets go of Maygen, laying a kiss to her forehead before he bows lowly to the princess.

He leaves without another word.

Elia waves a hand to the two girls sat behind her. "These are my other handmaidens. Ladies, please, introduce yourselves."

The first to step forward is another Dornish girl, certainly. She smiles kindly at Maygen as she says, "Ashara Dayne. It's very nice to meet you, Lady Maygen."

"And you," Maygen says.

The second girl is the auburn-haired girl. "Jeyne Redwyne," she says as she scans Maygen. "I love your dress."

"Thank you," says Maygen with a flash of a smile.

Elia takes her by the shoulder, leading her toward the chairs. "Now, we were just discussing breaking our fast in the gardens tomorrow. What do you think of that, little lion?"

"I'd like that," Maygen says. The idea is exciting, really. Casterly Rock doesn't have gardens so much as it has flowers that wilt quickly without proper care. She loves her home, certainly, but there is no denying that King's Landing is far better suited for her.

She thinks that she might just like it here.


	5. ii.

Tywin finds the time to join Maygen and Jaime at supper that night. He sits at the head of the table, Jaime on his right and Maygen on his left.

He scans his youngest daughter up and down before he speaks, "You haven't grown much since I last saw you."

Maygen's eyes go wide at the statement. She opens her mouth to speak, but Jaime interjects. "It's only been a year, Father. And May has always been small for her age. I'm sure she'll grow taller."

Maygen sends her brother a thankful look. While she loves her father dearly, there are times when his words can sting.

"And what does Princess Elia think of you?" Tywin asks her.

"I believe that she likes me," Maygen replies. "She's very kind. I like her. She'll be a wonderful queen, when the time comes."

"The queenship was meant for Cersei," Tywin says, and Maygen swallows hard.

She doesn't know what to say, and so, again, Jaime cames to the rescue. "But King Aerys refused the offer. The Martells have Valyrian blood. He wanted the line to continue."

"Cersei would have been a good match for our prince," Tywin says, spearing the pheasant in front of him with a fork. "Aerys was foolish to refuse. Gods, even you would have been a better match than some sickly Dornish girl. And you're little more than a child."

"Father!" Maygen says, her eyes going terribly wide once more. She has never heard anyone so outwardly disagree with a king's decision.

He casts his green eyes on her, raising a blond eyebrow. "Lions don't hold their tongues, Maygen. You know this. When you are among family, you speak the truth. Understood?"

She nods slowly. "I'm sorry."

"And lions don't apologize."

"Father, please," Jaime says. "She's a child still. Let her learn."

"She's a Lannister," Tywin corrects. "And she'd best learn quickly if she wants to live."

Maygen lowers her head. She takes a drink of the wine in front of her, trying to tune out her father's voice. "I'm sorry," she repeats, and she takes yet another long drink.

Tywin looks at her. At her troubled expression. Her quivering lip. The child is actually about to cry.

"I'm going to take the rest of my supper in my office," he says, and he gets to his feet abruptly, waving a hand to beckon forth a servant.

The boy nods obediently, taking the plate and hurrying away. Tywin looks between his children.

"Heed my words, Maygen. You have to learn quickly," he says, and without waiting for a response, he leaves the two Lannister children at the dining table.

Maygen's tears overspill her eyes.

Jaime rushes to take the seat beside her, placing a hand on her knee and wrapping an arm around her. "Hey," he says in a gentle voice that he seems to only have for her. "It's all right, little one. You know how Father is. I know you do. He's always been like this."

Maygen shakes her head. "He was kinder to me. He always was. On my namedays- -"

Jaime squeezes her leg. "He's right, though, May. King's Landing is different from home. He can't treat you the same as he did before. And you have to grow up."

"I don't want to," Maygen says, her voice soft enough that Jaime nearly doesn't hear. Sometimes Jaime forgets just how young his little sister is. He hasn't seen her in so long, hasn't written her very often. "Can't I just stay like this forever?"

She looks at him with tear-filled eyes. "I want to go home."

Jaime freezes.

Immediately, the conversation changes. He takes her by the hands, weaving his fingers through hers. "You can't leave, May. You have to stay here. It's already settled. Father will never forgive you if you ask to leave. Do you understand, May?"

"I understand," she says. "I just don't like this. I don't like it here. I don't like how Father is."

"He's the same as when he's home," Jaime answers. "You're the one who changed."

"I haven't changed," Maygen says, shaking her head. "I haven't, really."

"You've come here," Jaime presses, keeping his tone gentle. "That means that you have. This city changes you. For better or for worse, it does. You have to learn. You have to grow up. That's the only way to be safe."

She shakes her head fiercely. "Can't you just protect me?" she begs. "You're a knight, now. You can make sure that I'm safe."

Jaime swallows hard. He smooths his thumb over her knuckles. "I can do my very best, May. But I can't promise you anything."

She hesitates a moment before she wraps her arms around his neck, burying her face in his neck. He wraps his own arms tightly around her waist, holding her in his arms. He runs his fingers through her soft golden hair and he whispers all of the sweet words he knows will make her feel better. He tries the things that always worked to make her stop crying when they were children. Soft words into wiping away the tears as they roll down her cheeks, into brushing soft golden hair out of her eyes and telling her that it will all be all right. And finally, he tickles her under the chin and earns laughter that seems to light up the room.

And Jaime decides that her laughter is the greatest sound he has ever heard in his life. That her smile is as bright as the sun. That his little sister is perhaps the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, and that he can never tell Cersei that fact.

With the matter settled, Jaime allows himself to smile. "Better now?" he asks her, and she nods. "Good. Now, get on to bed. You're going to have a long day tomorrow, and you'll want to be well-rested."

She nods again, laying a kiss to his cheek before she gets to her feet, hurrying away. Jaime watches her go, laughing to himself. Sweet little Maygen.

If only she can remain so sweet forever.


	6. iii.

Maygen is smiling as she sits in the gardens with Elia and her fellow handmaidens. The warm sun bores down on the group, and it doesn't take a genius to see that Elia is basking in its glow. Maygen is sure it reminds her of Dorne, where the sun never leaves the bright blue sky.

Another reminder of Dorne sits in the glasses before the four girls. A sour red wine that Maygen has to admit she quite enjoys. While she may not drink wine often at breakfast, the Dornish red tastes wonderful with the strawberry tarts that Elia has specially requested for the morning.

Jeyne looks at Maygen with a smile. "What do you think of King's Landing so far?" she asks. It is the question on everyone's mind now that she has started to settle. The city makes an impression on newcomers.

"It's a beautiful city," Maygen replies. She isn't going to mention how deeply Tywin's words from the night prior have affected her. "I know that I'll make friends here. You all seem so kind. Having Jaime makes things easier, as well."

Jeyne grins at that. "Jaime is very kind," she says, nodding along to herself as though this is some great revelation and not a known thing. "Noble and gallant. A perfect knight. And he certainly looks like one, too."

She breaks into quiet giggles at her own statement, her cheeks flushing bright red. "Oh, dear," she says, waving a hand to the glass in front of her. "I believe I've had too much wine."

"She's lying," Ashara says with a chuckle. "Jeyne here is quite taken with your elder brother. He's all she ever talks about when given the chance." She lowers her voice as she looks at Maygen. "Expect her to ask about a possible betrothal."

"I'm not going to do that!" Jeyne cries, shoving at Ashara's shoulder. She looks at Maygen as well with laughter-filled eyes. "I won't do that. I swear it."

Maygen chuckles softly. "Jaime is kind and noble and gallant," she agrees, then concedes the point, "And very handsome."

She does not mention that Jaime deserves a wife as beautiful as the maiden herself and that Jeyne's homely face and auburn hair would never do for her perfect elder brother. Maygen is not cruel and has no ill feelings toward the elder handmaiden, it is simply the truth. Jaime deserves the absolute world, deserves a girl that is smart and strong and beautiful and the most perfect thing ever.

As if the pretty little girl of merely thirteen years can ever understand that her brother believes he has found all of that in his twin. In Cersei, who is as beautiful as she is cunning, and deadly if there is ever a need. Cersei Lannister, the Light of the West, the strongest of them all without ever showing it. And she loves Jaime just as much as he loves her.

But they love in secret, for such a love would be deemed an atrocity by the other lords and ladies of Westeros, who blindly ignore the fact that their own king is wed to his sister. 

It is the way of the world. The Targaryens keep their traditions that they have practiced since the time of the conquest, but no one else dares to do the same things.

Jaime likes to think that if Maygen ever found out about him and Cersei, she would not hate him for it. He likes to belive that his little sister is too good to hate, too good to ever be disgusted by him. Too good for this world that will surely ruin her, because day by day King Aerys is growing worse, and Jaime has only just started to realize that she will have to encounter this.

He does not want Maygen to be tainted, but he knows it will come. As days go by, he writes of his worries to Cersei.

Maygen writes to her older sister about King's Landing. About Princess Elia and Prince Rhaegar, who she hardly speaks with, but finds to be a studious and solemn man. Not a prince, she thinks, a scholar. Jaime is far more suited for princely life, and it is most often about him that she writes her letters, praising his skills with a sword as she watches him train from the window of her chambers. Her elder brother is the most wonderful man she has ever encountered, and this point is made well in her letters.

It is not Jaime nor Maygen who realizes what is happening. Who realizes that every time they pen each other's names in their writings they are solidifying the truth. Jaime and Maygen fall deeper in love day by day, and it is not either of them who see this, it is Cersei.

She sees it in the way that Jaime speaks of Maygen like she is the sun that he must orbit around. In the way that Maygen always finds her way back to speaking of Jaime. There are so many things in King's Landing, but Maygen loves none of them as much as she does Jaime. She speaks of how beautiful the gardens are, and how Jaime and her take walks through them almost daily. How delicious the food is, and how she and Jaime sup together every night. About how Father is terrible sometimes, but Jaime is always there to help. Maygen's world is Jaime, and while Jaime always tries to dote on his twin, it is clear to her that Jaime's world is Maygen.

Cersei supposes that she can understand as she sits and reads their letters by the fire. Maygen is everything that she is not. Gentle where she is harsh. Kind where she is cold. Cersei is beautiful and she knows it, she is the Light of the West, but Maygen is a soft sort of lovely, the kind of lovely that the bards will write songs about someday.

Jaime and Maygen write her so often that she hardly has time to read them all. Tyrion sometimes begs to read their letters to her, but she sends him away when he tries that. She holds no love for that creature, and he gets plenty of letters to begin with. Maygen and Jaime write him every week, as they had agreed before they both went away.

Cersei wishes to go to King's Landing. She wishes to be with Jaime again, entangled in his arms, sharing his bed and feeling his skin on hers. Casterly Rock has nothing for her. Uncle Kevan visits often with his foolish wife, who tries desperately to interest the fifteen-year-old girl. Lady Dorna Swyft doesn't matter to Cersei. She is weak. A bird like Maygen. Cersei thinks that Jaime and Uncle Kevan are stupid. Lions cannot love birds. A bird cannot survive when it is among lions. It can only last so long before it is devoured. It cannot survive among dragons either, and Cersei hears Jaime's worries that Maygen will be corrupted by their king and his increasing madness.

Let her be, thinks Cersei at night as she reads the words of concern. Let Maygen see the truth of this world, this horrible world that allowed a good woman to die birthing a monster that has no business having the Lannister name. A creature that Maygen and Jaime love so dearly that Cersei should hate them for it. They have no mother because of it.

Days turn into weeks and weeks into months.

Cersei knows that Jaime loves Maygen. She knows that Maygen loves Jaime. It is so clear to her and yet neither of them realize. 

Fools, both of them. There is no point in denying the truth when it's so plain to see.

But Cersei will let them figure it out in their own time. A lion is too stubborn to admit when it has not realized, and a bird too fragile to be forced along.

Cersei is smarter than both of them.

She knows that she is.


	7. iv.

Elia Martell is with child. Let the realm rejoice. Finally Prince Rhaegar will have an heir. Maygen is happy, but there this a part of her that is upset. Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia will be going to Dragonstone to have their child.

And Elia is taking her handmaidens with her.

Maygen has been in King's Landing but three months. She does not want to leave. She loves it here, she loves sitting in the gardens, drinking Dornish reds with Elia, talking to the horses in the stables, and supping with Jaime in the quiet cover of a weeping willow tree. She will only be gone a year, just until the royal heir is old enough for travel. But she will miss King's Landing. She'll miss Jaime.

She'll even miss Tywin, though he is distant and cold. 

I'm growing, she wants to tell him, I'm learning, and she truly is. But Tywin will hear none of it. He'll believe none of it until he has seen her prove herself. Until she has seen the atrocities committed by King Aerys.

The morning that Maygen is to leave with Elia and Rhaegar and Ashara and Jeyne, she leaves a letter in Jaime's chambers. It is brief, only a few lines, written in looping, careful handwriting instead of her typical messy scrawl that she writes to Cersei and Tyrion in. She wants Jaime to understand the care put into it. It is not signed or addressed. Maygen feels no need for that.

Promise me that you will write me every day. I will be very cross with you if you don't! I'm going to miss you!

She leaves the letter on his bedside table and hopes to all the Gods that he will see it. 

When the time comes, she stands on the dock, shivering as the cool sea air washes over her. Blackwater Bay churns before her, beckoning her into its dark waves. At Casterly Rock, in the days before Jaime went to Crakehall to squire for Lord Sumner, he would take her to the cliffs. She would watch him jump off of them into the water. He was always the best swimmer of them all. And he would stare up at her as he tread water, calling her name sweetly and promising that he would help her if anything went wrong.

Most days, he convinced her.

Maygen is not afraid of the water. She just respects it. She knows that at any moment, she could be dragged under. She knows that a dark fate would await her at the bottom of the sea.

Maygen is no fool, no matter how much Cersei may believe she is.

She feels Elia's hand on her shoulder and knows that it is almost time to go. Her stomach twists in knots as she scans the dock for Jaime. "He's supposed to be here," she tells the Princess in a weak voice. "He promised me that he would see me off."

Elia offers her a sad smile. "Perhaps King Aerys needed him for something."

"Can't we just wait another moment?" Maygen begs, and her voice is strained with the start of tears. "Please? Please, can't we just wait?"

Elia looks at Prince Rhaegar for an answer. The Silver Prince seems to hesitate as he looks upon the ship before. "We really ought to be going soon," he says, but he's cracking, and Elia knows it.

"Please, my love," she tells him. "I am sure that Ser Jaime will be here any moment."

Ashara stands at Maygen's other side. She takes the girl by the shoulder, as well, trying to be comforting. Jeyne stares at the end of the dock, hoping that Jaime will arrive and make his little sister smile again, because she has never seen the little lion so sullen and it very nearly breaks her heart.

It is Jeyne who first spots him. He is running, his golden hair falling into his eyes. She pats Maygen on the back to get her attention.

Maygen practically squeals with joy as she runs to meet Jaime the rest of the way. She throws her arms around him and lets him lift her off the ground and spin her in circles until they are both dizzy and laughing. "Jaime!" she cries as she buries her face in his neck and feels his hair tickle her forehead.

"I'm sorry, May," he says quite honestly. "Ser Barristan was speaking to me about sword lessons, and I got distracted."

"We were going to leave!" Maygen cries indignantly as he lowers her to the ground. She stands on her toes, all the same, to better meet his gaze. "I thought I wasn't going to get to say goodbye."

Jaime offers her a smile that seems to make all of her annoyance fade in an instant. "Well, now you can," he says, and he takes her by the hand, squeezing. "So go on."

She hesitates a moment before she draws him into another embrace. It means more than words could ever say and she thinks that Jaime will understand. "I'm going to miss you," she says into his chest. "So, so much."

"I'm going to miss you, too," he says. Truthfully, he doesn't know what he is going to do without her.

He tangles his fingers with hers and looks her in the eyes. "You be careful, May," he says. "Promise me. Don't do anything you'll regret."

"I won't," she says. "I promise."

He kisses her on the forehead, lips lingering there for just a moment too long before he straightens and offers a smile to Elia and Prince Rhaegar. "I'll see you both within the year. Keep her safe for me, my princess," he says.

Elia laughs softly. She is practically glowing. Pregnancy suits her. 

If she survives, motherhood will suit her, as well. 

She wraps an arm around Maygen's slender shoulders. "I will make sure she is all right," she says. 

"I will, as well," says Prince Rhaegar. He understands the love that his wife holds for her little Lannister handmaiden. It is hard not to love Maygen.

Jaime nods. It is good to know that Maygen has friends. That way she won't feel so terribly alone on Dragonstone. "I'll try to visit," he says. "Whenever I can. I'll swim to you if I have to. I won't go a whole year without seeing you when you're so close. I can't."

Maygen's cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. "Goodbye," she said, her voice strained with the start of tears. "I'm going to miss you," she says again.

It's the only thing she can bring herself to say. "And I, you," Jaime says. His smile is weak. She doesn't know just how much he will miss her pretty laugh and her smile that is like the sun in the sky. 

It is Jeyne who draws Maygen away from her elder brother. "We ought to be going, little one," she says, but even she stares at Jaime a moment too long.

He may be blind to his sister's love for him, but Jaime knows full well that Jeyne wants to wed him. He offers the girl a smile all the same. This one doesn't meet his emerald eyes.

Prince Rhaegar shakes his hand. It is a gesture of goodwill that makes Jaime feel a swell of pride. To have the future king's friendship is more than he could have ever asked for coming to King's Landing.

Elia hugs him. She is not one for formalities, not one to hide her emotions. And when she draws away, she whispers to him. "Maygen has not stopped talking about you since she learned we were leaving. Take care to write her. I am afraid of what would happen if you did not."

Jaime nods obediently. 

He stands on the end of the dock as Maygen boards the ship with her companions. He watches the ship sail away, watches his sister, the light of his world, wave to him from the bow of it. He watches as she grows smaller and smaller in the distance. And finally, he watches her disappear from view.

A single tear falls down his cheek.

He does not wipe it away.


	8. v.

Dragonstone is terrifying to the thirteen-year-old girl. Stone dragons guard the castle. The stone walls emanate an icy cold chill, making her shiver as she follows Elia down the winding hallways. Her chambers are just as cold. The bedsheets are gray, dull, compared to the red and gold ones she had in King's Landing.

It's only a year, she tells herself as she dresses for supper that night. It's only a year, and I am not a child.

She can do this. She knows that she can. She has to. It will make Tywin proud if he sees how well she's handled herself. She will grow up. She will return from Dragonstone stronger.

This will be good for her.

Elia invites all of her handmaidens to dine with her and Rhaegar the first night. It is a lavish affair that the servants have prepared specially for their arrival. Dornish red wines and strawberry tarts fill Maygen until she feels like she is about to burst. 

It is a good night. Maygen smiles throughout dinner as Jeyne makes jokes. Ashara and Elia speak of Dorne. They speak of their brothers. Arthur Dayne is a man of the Kingsguard, Ashara's elder brother. He is a kind man. And Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper, still in Dorne, writing often to his older sister. Elia is lucky to have her uncle, Lewyn, in King's Landing with her. He is a man of the Kingsguard, as well, and was a great help to her when she first arrived in the capital.

Maygen talks about Jaime. He is all that she knows how to talk about now.

Elia finds it humorous. She does not realize that it is anything more than a little sister's love for her brother. Neither she nor Maygen seems to realize that Maygen's love for Jaime is different.

Things are not different. Maygen was so afraid that they would be that it is a surprise. Everything is the same as it was before they left. The only difference is that Jaime is not here. 

Jaime is across Blackwater Bay, currently trying to hold back tears as he sits at the supper table with their father.

Tywin is quiet as he usually is, leaving the table silent without Maygen's chatter. They are back to how they were before Maygen was ever there. Jaime hates it. 

It is full dark when Jaime is finally able to return to his chambers. He is too tired to see the letter sitting on his bedside table. He doesn't even change into his nightclothes before he collapses into bed, burying his face in the pillows. 

Jaime Lannister dreams of a girl with golden hair. She is still and covered in blood. Her skin is deathly pale. 

He wakes with tears covering his face, his mouth open in a silent scream.

He tells no one about this dream. Because that is all that it is. A dream, nothing more.

Maygen's letter goes unread as the days pass. Jaime occupies himself with sword fighting and meals with Tywin.

He is quiet. He writes to Cersei and Tyrion and he goes about the motions as if everything is normal.

He cannot bring himself to write to Maygen. It will never be the same as talking to her. As hugging her. As holding her pale hand as they walk through the gardens. She waits expectantly for letters that never come. She spends her nights sitting on the sill of her window, watching for ravens. Her mornings are filled with Elia. Readying her Princess for the day's activities and spending the day on the beach.

Maygen swims with Jeyne and Ashara some mornings. The water chills the others to the bone, but Maygen persists. It is nothing compared to Casterly Rock, where jumping from the cliffs with Jaime was one of her favorite things to do.

The bravest of them all at only thirteen years old.

Elia's stomach swells with child. Maygen grows more excited as the months pass. There is still no word from Jaime. She forces all thought of her wonderful older brother from her mind. Soon, Elia will give the realm a new prince or princess. She makes herself think of only this when she finds herself in the rookery, hoping to the Gods that Jaime has written.

Jaime writes Cersei every day. He talks about how much he misses Maygen. He talks about how desperately he wishes to see her smiling face again.

And after some months, he talks about how he yearns for her. How he wishes that he could hold her in his arms and bury his face in her soft golden hair. He loves her so much that he hardly understands it.

Since he was a child he's known that he and Cersei were meant to be together. That's all she ever said during the nights where they lay there together, skin to skin and tangled in each other's arm. The Targaryens have wed brother and sister for centuries, Cersei would say as she kissed his neck. Why can't we do the same? 

He has never been with anyone but her and has never felt the need to be with any other girl.

Maygen changes all of that.


	9. vi.

Maygen has an absolutely dreadful dream one night.

She dreams that the stone dragons have come alive. They stare at her with fire pouring from their gaping mouths. She screams and screams and begs for Jaime, but he doesn't come. The fire consumes her and she begs the Gods for mercy as her skin blisters and cracks and blackens.

She awakens in a cold sweat to Jeyne standing over her bed, face deathly pale. "Come quicky," she says, and Maygen has no time to ask questions before Jeyne is taking her by the hand and pulling her from the bed.

Maygen only has to hear the screams to understand what is happening.

And then she starts running.

Ashara stands at the door to Elia's room. Her hands are shaking. There is blood on them. She looks at Jeyne and Maygen with terrified eyes. 

Maygen thinks that Ashara is close to tears.

She understands. Elia has always been sickly. Even before the pregnancy, Maester Pycelle urged caution. But Rhaegar and Elia tried because the realm needs an heir once Rhaegar is king. But none of that matters if Elia dies here in her birthing bed. Maygen wants to run into the room and make sure that Elia is okay. She starts to, but Ashara pulls her into her arms and holds her there, even as Maygen thrashes and fights in her grip and pleads with the older girl to let her go. Ashara's grip is deathly tight because she knows that if she lets Maygen go, there is no stopping the both of them from running to Elia's side. They just need to stand back and let the maester help.

Even as Elia's screams seem to bounce off of the walls and echo in their ears. Jeyne stares past the doorway into the room. She is frozen in place, her eyes filled with tears and her skin so white that her freckles look like drops of blood on her face. Maygen is sobbing as Ashara reaches for their fellow handmaiden.

The three girls are a huddle, holding onto each other and trying desperately to keep away from the door. Rhaegar's voice is nearly drowned out by his wife's screams as he tries to reassure her, tries to promise that it will be all right.

When the maester sends him away, he stands in front of the door. His arms are covered in scarlet blood. He looks tired and oh so scared. Maygen takes him by the hand. She doesn't care if he is the prince and she is below him in station. She holds him and pulls him into the group of girls. And Rhaegar lets her because he can think of nothing else to do.

When the screaming finally comes to a halt, Maygen fears that her closest friend in the whole world has died, because it has been going on for hours, and it has come to an abrupt stop.

Rhaegar draws away from the girls and promises them that he will tell them what's happened. They watch him with anxiety in their stomachs as he enters the room. 

When he returns, there is a tired, scared, smile on his face. "Follow me," he says, and the words are breathless.

They do as told.

Elia Martell is not only alive, but she is also grinning. The maester stands beside her, a child in his arms. He offers the girls a smile. "A girl," he says. A princess.

Maygen lets out a sob. Words fail her as her tears start anew. Elia's grin falls and she holds out her arms and lets Maygen run to her. She encompasses the child in her grip, smoothing her hands over the soft blonde hair. "I am all right," she says. "I am all right."

Maygen is still crying when she straightens to full height, looking at the baby girl in the maester's arms. "Her name is Rhaenys," Rhaegar says. He is laughing, for this night has seemed to last an eternity, and thank all the Gods that Elia is safe. 

The sun creeps above the clouds as Elia allows each of her handmaidens a turn holding the sweet baby Rhaenys. The child coos and tries to grab at Maygen's hair when it's her turn and everyone manages to laugh. It is good to laugh after all of the fear that came before. Elia's cheeks are hollow and she is considerably more pale, but her eyes are bright and she laughs along with the rest of them, and so they don't ask questions. They laugh until they can't anymore because laughter is far better than tears.

Maygen sits with Rhaegar in Elia's chambers as he writes the letters. She carries them to the rookery and sends them out. By morning, all of the lords and ladies of Westeros will know of Rhaenys's birth, and they will be happy to hear it.

By morning, Jaime will gather his father's letters and read the message. He will make a decision then.

He will go to Dragonstone and visit Maygen.


	10. vii.

Jaime's first letter to Dragonstone terrifies Maygen when she sees it. It has been almost a year since she left, she has celebrated a nameday with no word from him. She thinks that something must have happened. That Father is ill or that Tyrion or Cersei is in trouble.

When she reads it, however, it takes everything within her not to start screaming with joy.

Jaime is coming to Dragonstone. He will be there within a day. It is already settled with Father. There will be no changes in the plans. He will stay for two weeks. He told Tywin that it was to meet the new princess, but even his lord father knows the truth. He is going for Maygen.

He writes Cersei about it in the days leading up to his trip. He tells her of his plans. You see, Jaime is going to tell Maygen everything. All of his feelings for her will be out in the open in due time. It is a terrifying thought, but Jaime is excited all the same.

Elia is bedridden, but Maygen still keeps her included in her preparations for Jaime's arrival. She lays out her dresses on the bed and asks Elia what will look best. And Elia is tired but she helps the best she can. She chooses a loose, flowing golden gown with red lions embroidered throughout.

She holds Rhaenys and watches Ashara fix Maygen's hair for the day. A braided crown with the rest of her hair flowing in waves down her back.

Maygen looks like a proper Lannister. She looks beautiful. She looks like a queen.

Elia applauds as Maygen twirls before her, hair and skirts flowing. "You look wonderful, little lion," she says, and she means it. Jaime will not be able to take his eyes off of her.

Maygen grins and her smile seems to light up the room. 

She squeezes Elia's hand before Ashara takes her to the docks to wait for Jaime.

They can see the ship nearing them. At its bow is Jaime, who starts waving the moment that he spots them. Maygen waves at well. It takes everything within her not to jump into the water and swim to him. She bounces excitedly on the heels of her feet as the ship docks.

The moment he is able, Jaime leaves the ship and runs to her. He wraps his arms around her waists and lifts her up and she buries her face in the crook of his neck, and he feels tears falling onto his shoulder but he doesn't care as he spins her in circles. He presses her against his chest and holds her there. "You never wrote me!" she says as she clutches desperately at his shirt. "I thought I'd done something wrong!"

He lowers her to the ground but does not let go of her. "I'm sorry," he says, and he means it because seeing her upset hurts him so deeply that he wants to never see it again. "Gods, Maygen, I am so, so sorry. I wanted to, I just... I just couldn't."

Maygen just shakes her head. She says nothing as she draws him into another embrace. He buries his face in her hair, holding her tightly. "I've missed you," he says in a weak voice. "I hope that you'll forgive me."

"Of course I will," she answers. "I could never be upset with you."

When the siblings could finally bring themselves to step away, Ashara offered Jaime a smile. "Hello, Ser Jaime," she said. "It's good to see you. This one hasn't stopped talking about you."

Jaime chuckles at that, draping an arm around Maygen's shoulders. "She's all that I could think about," he says. "It's all right. I've missed her greatly."

"I'd imagine," Ashara says. "Does my brother fare well?"

"Yes," Jaime says. "He's been helping me with my sword training. He's an impressive man."

"That is he," agrees Ashara. She looks at Maygen. "I'm going to go see if Jeyne needs any help. Will you show your brother around the castle?"

Maygen nods hurriedly. "Of course," she says. She links arms with Jaime, grinning as she leads him to the gates.

The tour is truly a mess, for fourteen-year-old Maygen really doesn't know what she is doing. She leads him down every hallway and tells him what is behind every door. Servants eye her as she passes, smiling at her. Everyone on Dragonstone has learned to love little Maygen Lannister because it is impossible not to.

Jaime is smiling all the while as she holds onto him. It feels wonderful to be with her again. To see her smiling face and hear her sweet voice.

They go to dinner together that night dressed in Lannister red and gold. They look like perfect lions as they settle at the table beside each other. Elia is absent, eating her dinner in her chambers. Rhaegar is with her. Jeyne and Ashara sit across from Jaime and Maygen. 

It is impossible to miss the way that Jeyne stares at Jaime. Ashara has to nudge the girl beneath the table more times than Maygen can count to get her to stop staring. And Maygen is almost... jealous, because Jaime offers Jeyne his perfect smiles whenever he catches her eye.

He is just being polite, but Maygen doesn't know that. For all that she knows, he would like to marry her one day. And why shouldn't he? House Redwyne is very respectable, very prosperous. The old Queen of Thorns was even a Redwyne before she married Lord Luthor Tyrell. She may not be nearly beautiful enough for Jaime, but that doesn't matter in the terms of prosperous marriages. Jeyne would be a good match, Maygen thinks as she stares down at her plate. So why am I so upset about that?

Maygen does not want any other girl to notice her brother. He is hers, bonded to her in a way that no other girl is, besides Cersei. They are of the same blood. They share family. He is her best friend in the whole wide world and she loves him to no extent. There is no one that Maygen cares about more in the world than Jaime.

When dinner is over, Maygen is almost saddened. She will have to go to her chambers soon, go to sleep. But all that she wants is to be with Jaime and talk about everything she has missed in King's Landing.

She offers to walk Jaime to his chambers, hoping to at least speak with him a little longer.

She doesn't know what Jaime has planned.

If she did, she would be even more terrified than him.


	11. viii.

The door to Jaime's chambers stands open as he considers his little sister, standing before him, her head down and her expression strangely sad.

"What's wrong, sweet?" he asks, the only thing he can think to say. 

She shakes her head and forces a smile that does not meet her emerald eyes. Or are they turquoise? Jaime wonders as he looks at her. They seem to favor Mother's blue. He's never thought about it until now, never looked at her well enough to see.

"Nothing," she says, blinking as if getting away some terrible thought. "Nothing's wrong."

Jaime hesitates.

Now is the time to put his plan into motion.

"Would you like to come in?" he asks. "I'm not ready for bed just yet, and I wanted to have a drink. Dornish wine is wonderful and all, but I brought some Arbor red with me from King's Landing and was hoping to have some."

Maygen hesitates a moment. Then, she nods. Why should she refuse when she has missed Jaime so deeply?

Jaime offers her a sheepish smile, stepping aside to allow Maygen entrance. 

His chambers are small. Decorated in red and black. Tapestries of dragons hang from the walls. The lion has entered the dragon's lair. It is clear to see that Jaime and Maygen are out of place here on Dragonstone.

Out of place they may be, but they certainly are not treated as outsiders. Jaime and Maygen Lannister have befriended the dragons, at least those that offer friendship in return. Prince Rhaegar is the kindest man that Maygen has ever met- besides Jaime- and Queen Rhaella is as good as a mother to the little Lannister lion. And Elia Martell is the most wonderful person that Maygen knows. Her brother may be a viper, but there is no poison to the Dornish princess.

Maygen watches Jaime pour two cups of wine from a decanter. While Maygen has grown to love the Dornish sours that Elia insists upon being served at dinner, she has to admit that sweet Arbor reds have a special place in her heart. She smiles when he hands her a cup of the stuff.

It is a paler red than the Dornish wine and smells of berries. Jaime watches Maygen take a sip of it, and she grins at the taste.

"Father's?" she asks, because she is certain that this is not a wine served at supper very often.

"Prince Rhaegar's," Jaime replies. "He had a cask brought when you all first arrived. But that's running out. He had the ship bring another, and for arranging the details, he promised me a decanter."

Maygen nods. The wine is certainly fit for royalty.

She takes a long sip of it, and Jaime watches as the wine stains her pale lips dark red.

It takes everything within him not to kiss her.

"You're enjoying yourself here?" he asked her. "You haven't gotten into any trouble?"

She nods. "Of course," she says. "Though, there isn't much trouble I could get myself into."

Jaime raises an eyebrow at that. "I'm sure you could find something," he says, earning a giggle from Maygen.

"I'm not a troublemaker anymore," she says. "I'm a woman grown now. Not a child."

"You're fourteen years old, May," Jaime corrects. "And you'll always be a child to me."

She chuckles at that, taking another drink of the wine. It's her third cup of the night, and she can feel her head beginning to grow cloudy. "You're the one who dragged me along to jump off the cliffs."

"And you're the one who climbed into that damn lion cage as if it was nothing."

She smiles. "We're both children then," she says. "Settled?"

And Jaime laughs. It's a sound that Maygen has missed immensely in the year since she has last seen him. He sits down on the bed, and Maygen takes a seat across from him. 

All that Jaime can feel is anxiety. He balls his hands into tight fists then releases them. Over and over he does this until Maygen reaches for him, taking his hand in her own and tangling her fingers with his. "What's wrong?" she asks.

He offers a weak smile and shakes his head. "Nothing, sweet. I'm all right."

"You're not," she says. Her grip on him tightens and suddenly all of her humor is gone and her head is clear. "What's wrong?"

Jaime shakes his head again. "I just..." he shakes his head, closing his eyes, because it is nearly impossible to look at her right now. "I have something to tell you."

"All right," she says, and she offers him a smile. "So just tell me."

"I don't want you to hate me."

That statement stuns her for a moment. "I could never hate you, Jaime. You're my best friend in the world."

He does point out that she has not referred to him as her brother. Perhaps he is reading too far into her words, but it gives him some semblance of hope to hear them.

"You have to promise that you'll never tell a soul," Jaime tells her. "Promise me, Maygen."

Her eyes go wide as she realizes the seriousness of the situation. She nods slowly, but Jaime is still. He wants to hear her say it.

"I promise," she says, her voice weak. "But what is it?"

Fingers twined together, Lannister green eyes locked, the two lions look at each other for a moment.

Jaime can't find words.

He opens his mouth to start to find sentences that never come. He sees Maygen's patient, concerned expression. 

And then he kisses her.

Perhaps it is foolish of him to do it. Perhaps he has lost his mind like King Aerys. Perhaps Maygen will hate him forever.

But he doesn't think so, because Maygen is kissing him back, and she tastes of sweet berry wine and her golden hair falls into his eyes and tickles his face, and by the Gods, she is the most beautiful girl he has ever met and he has to be dreaming.

But he isn't dreaming.

No dream would ever be so sweet.

They break apart breathless, eyes wide, terrified, really, because they must have both lost their minds. It is the only reasonable conclusion.

Jaime loves Cersei. He has loved her from the time of their birth, from the day that he clung to his twin's foot as they were brought forth into the world. He has loved her since he's known what love was. Cersei is his twin, his golden woman who has promised herself to him, body and soul. 

Jaime loves Cersei.

And yet here he sits, with Maygen's face in his hands, staring down at this girl of porcelain and turquoise with her smile as bright as sunlight. She is glowing, and Jaime finds that all he wants to do is touch the soft skin of her face, to run his fingers through her pale golden hair, to feel her heart beating in her chest as he draws her onto his lap and kisses her again and again and again.

Jaime loves Cersei.

But he is beginning to think that he loves Maygen more.


	12. ix.

Spring brings news of a great tourney to Westeros. With this news comes another announcement; Elia Martell is with child once more, and the maesters believe that this one might be a boy. Maygen was only eleven years old the last time she attended a tourney, a nameday celebration for Jaime and Cersei, but she knows already that this will be a far more grand affair.

The castle of Harrenhal is little more than a ruin, though it was a strong fortress in its time, before the dragons of Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives burned Lord Harren Hoare and all of his sons alive inside the castle's walls. But Maygen suspects that Lord Walter Whent will make the tourney perfect for his daughter's fifteenth nameday.

Prince Rhaegar has secretly helped to fund this tourney. The realm needs a spot of happiness, especially with King Aerys' increasing madness. And, while he will never tell a soul, he plans to gain the support of the Westerosi lords. He plans to take the throne from his father.

Jeyne is beyond excited as everyone prepares for the tournament. She is convinced that she'll find herself a suitable husband. Gods only know that she wants Jaime and Jaime only, though the girl will settle if she must.

Maygen packs dresses of fine silk and Myrish lace, crimson and gold and embroidered with lions. She practices new ways to style her hair, tightly done braids and loose waves that fall over her slender shoulders. She writes letters to her father when she is not preparing for the travel. She asks him if he could find it in his heart to allow her to marry Jaime. Tywin gives his daughter no answer. He stews in quiet rage and curses the Gods for ever making her fall in love with Jaime.

Ashara is excited for the tourney as well. Her brother Arthur is sure to participate in the joust, and he is a formidable fighter.

Elia wants to see her brothers. Oberyn and Doran are so far from her, they do not venture out of Dorne very often. She hopes they'll find the time to visit her at the tourney, to meet their niece and discuss the possibility of a nephew. The Gods only know how much she's missed them.

The morning that they are set to leave, Maygen dresses herself in a gown of pink and gold. She pins her hair back and smiles as Ashara helps her weave tiny braids around her ears. Elia wears a dress of brilliant orange and scarlet that makes her glow like the sun. Ashara dresses in the purple and silver of House Dayne and pins her hair back with a silver star pin.

Jeyne makes a decision the night before they go. She chops off a large amount of her auburn hair, leaving herself with a blunt, chin-length style that makes her round, full face look narrow. She dresses for travel in burgundy and white. Her friends compliment her to no end and she basks in it; she smiles all the while as they gather into the wheelhouse.

Maygen is practically bouncing in her seat as Ashara, Jeyne, Elia, and little Rhaenys settle down into seats of their own. Rhaenys is only a year old, but she looks like a proper princess, garbed in her father's red and black. She has the Dornish look, the dark hair, the tanned skin. The only thing that shows her Targaryen father is the streak of silver-gold in her hair.

Maygen does not stop talking the whole journey to Harrenhal. Her companions smile and endure, they know her well enough at this point. Nearly two years of her chatter has left them with a tolerance for her excitement.

The wheelhouse has no windows. As they roll through Harrenhal's gates, they do not see the tents that have sprung up, the banners of house sigils that wave in the breeze. They do not smell the meat cooking inside the castle as the servants prepare for the night's great feast. It is as if a second city has sprouted on the castle's grounds.

When the time comes, they pile out of the wheelhouse. Maygen's eyes are wide as she looks around at the tents and the banners. She sees the banner of House Stark in the distance, a gray direwolf racing across a field of white. The stag of House Baratheon. The purple lightning of House Dondarrion. Pages and servants scurry across the grounds. Groomsmen lead impressive tourney horses of midnight black and pure white. Men in armor bow their heads to Elia. Young squires offer Maygen sheepish smiles. Maygen returns them eagerly. She is the most excited out of all of them, and she is going to enjoy herself.

This will be the greatest experience of her life.


	13. x.

The opening ceremonies include a wonderful parade of the competitors, riding their horses and dressed in their fine armor as they ride across the pitch. 

Ashara cheers wildly at the sight of her brother in his pearl white armor. Maygen sees the start of a smile on Arthur's face, but he forces it away in an instant. He has to act stronger, has to pretend that he doesn't hear.

Midway through the parade, a man takes Elia by the shoulder. Maygen, Ashara, and Jeyne spin around prepared to fight when Elia starts to laugh. She hands Rhaenys to Maygen and throws her arms around the man's neck, and Ashara is the one to realize it. "Oberyn!" she cries with laughter in her voice.

The Red Viper of Dorne laughs as well. Elia clings to his arm even as he draws Ashara into his embrace. "Hello, my friend," he greets. "It has been a long time."

Ashara nods, grinning as she looks at him. "Rest assured that we Daynes certainly missed you. Is Doran here?"

"Doran is caring for an infant. I do not imagine a tourney such as this would be very safe for little Quentyn," Oberyn says.

Ashara nods her agreement. Oberyn's black eyes fall on Maygen, and his smile seems to turn from wolfish to soft as he looks to the child in her arms. "This must be Rhaenys," he says.

Elia nods eagerly. She looks at Maygen and her smile is permission enough. Maygen hands the child over to Oberyn, who immediately draws her close to his chest. "You are well?" he asks Elia. "Safe? Healthy? The both of you?"

She laughs softly, squeezing her younger brother's arm. "Yes," she says. "We are both well. Rhaenys is more than I could have imagined."

Oberyn nods along with her words. "You will have to take her to Dorne, sweet sister. When she is older. Let her run through the Water Gardens with Quentyn and Arianne. My girls would love her, too. Nymeria, Obara, and Tyene wish to know their family."

Elia nods slightly. "Perhaps one day. Once this little one is born," she offers, smoothing a hand over her growing stomach.

"The maesters think it is a boy?" Oberyn asks, and she smiles.

"Yes. How wonderful would that be? A little prince to take the throne."

They watch the rest of the parade in near silence, all smiles. Oberyn keeps an arm around Elia's shoulders. In his other arm sits little Rhaenys, who smiles up at her uncle the whole time. 

Maygen can't help but smile, too.

When the parade is finished and everyone has begun to settle down, King Aerys himself rises from his seat. Maygen flinches as she looks at him. His hair is long, his beard and nails, as well. He looks far older than he is. It is clear that his madness has taken its toll.

"Jaime Lannister!" he calls, and Maygen goes stiff.

Her brother steps forward, confusion clear on his face. Nearby, Maygen sees her father and Cersei. They look just as stunned.

"Father?" Prince Rhaegar asks, and it becomes clear to everyone in attendance that no one knows what is happening besides Aerys, and that is a terrifying thought.

And yet Jaime walks forward all the same with that proud lion look of his. He gives his family reassuring smiles before he lowers to kneel before his king.

"Your Grace," he says.

King Aerys' next words send a shiver down Maygen's spine. She sees her father go rigid in his seat. She sees Cersei's eyes go terribly wide.

"Jaime Lannister, I would hereby appoint you a member of my Kingsguard as my seventh knight."

A murmur goes up over the crowd. But Jaime stays still. He says his vows without hesitation, without trepidation. He makes the oaths. He becomes a man of the Kingsguard.

He will take no lands, marry no woman, father no children.

And when it is all done, Jaime rises from the ground as the crowd cheers and cheers, all besides three lions who stare at him, this boy, this cub, who has no business protecting a king so mad that he burns men alive and laughs as their screams echo across the halls of the Red Keep. And yet Jaime is smiling. He is smiling as Ser Gerald Hightower, the White Bull himself, steps down from King Aerys' side and drapes the ivory cloak around his shoulders.

He smiles as the Kingsguard swarms about him, clapping him on the shoulders and congratulating him and acting as if the world has not just fallen in on itself. 

Jeyne looks absolutely pitiful, but even that is nothing compared to Maygen.

Tears sting the corners of her eyes. They roll down her cheeks. She does not wipe them away.

She stares at him.

At her brother.

At the only man she will ever love.


	14. xi.

Tywin Lannister has resigned as Hand of the King before the day is out. He takes Cersei and his household guard home. He tries to convince Maygen to join him, but she is steadfast. She will see the rest of this tourney through, and she will remain Elia's handmaiden until she is no longer needed as such. The Lord Lannister grits his teeth but accepts this. He can do nothing else.

Jaime wants with all of his heart to stay and compete in the joust, but King Aerys has already made the arrangements. He will return to King's Landing to watch over Queen Rhaella and little Prince Viserys.

He says goodbye to Maygen in his tent before he goes. He wraps his arms around her and kisses her first on the forehead and then her lips as she tangles her arms around his neck and holds him until he has to tell her to release him because she is going to strangle him to death at this rate.

She makes him promise that he'll write her the moment he gets back to King's Landing. She hopes the letter will arrive before the tourney is out. 

There is a great feast that night. Maygen sits with her fellow handmaidens at a table among the crowd. They dine on peacock and pig and strawberry tarts and rich Arbor red wine. Everyone eats their fill. Minstrels roam the great hall, playing their songs and hoping for coin.

Maygen hands over a silver to a handsome young man who sings Seasons of My Love to their table, earning applause and cheers from the three girls. He smiles broadly and winks at Maygen as he says, "Many thanks, my lady."

It is a laughing Ashara who informs Maygen that he is no mere minstrel but her cousin, Ser Gerold Dayne. The little lion goes bright red and buries her face in her hands, even as Ashara tells her that it is all right, that the sixteen-year-old Gerold might perhaps even be a suitable match for her.

Maygen tries to ignore that. She does not want Gerold Dayne, no matter how handsome and charismatic he may be. She wants Jaime.

But she smiles and plays along the best she can when he returns to the table with a striking rendition of the Dornishman's Wife, his eyes lingering on her the whole time. He plays song after song until, finally, Maygen begins to soften. He is a kind man, really.

The middle of the hall becomes a dance floor, writhing with movement. Lord Robert Baratheon dances with any lady who asks it of him.

Ashara finds herself sharing dances with Ser Barristan Selmy, Oberyn Martell, and Ser Jon Connington. She has barely sat down when Brandon Stark approaches the table with a young man wrapped in his arm. "My ladies," he greets before his gray eyes land on Ashara. "Lady Ashara. My brother, Eddard, was hoping he could have a dance with you."

Her violet eyes drift to each of her companions as if wondering what she should say. Though the smirk on her face says it all.

"Of course I will," she says, and then she is dragging Eddard Stark to the dance floor and drawing him into a waltz.

Jeyne's partnership is soon claimed by Tytos Blackwood, leaving Maygen alone at their little table. 

Maygen watches her friends dance and laugh and smile with their handsome partners and she wishes that she could be whisked away to the dance floor and be held close by a handsome man as she danced the night away.

She wishes Jaime could have stayed, for he has always been the better dancer of the two of them. She learned to waltz from him at his thirteenth nameday when she was but eleven years old, still tripping over her skirts.

When Gerold Dayne returns, he is not singing. He extends a hand and offers her a glinting smile. "Would you like to dance, my lady?"

She considers his offer for a moment, looking up into his indigo eyes.

She accepts.

Ser Gerold's hands are warm and calloused as he draws her from her seat and to the center of the hall. "Can you dance, my lady?" he asks her, a glint of humor in his eyes.

"Hardly," Maygen answers, and she earns laughter from the Dornish knight.

He guides her through a slow and steady waltz, murmuring the steps under his breath to help her keep time. It is more helpful than he might think. He is a skilled dancer, and Maygen worries that she is going to step on his toes as they spin across the floor, nearly bumping into Ashara and Eddard, the former of who begins to laugh, making even the quiet wolf smile. At the end of the song, he dips her low in his arms, letting her hover just inches above the floor. Her eyes go wide as she tightens her grip just to make sure that she doesn't fall.

By the time that Maygen and Gerold part, they have danced their way through three songs. Maygen is laughing as she drags him to sit with her at the table. 

Jeyne and Tytos disappear into the crowd. Ashara returns to the table breathless and flushed red. She takes a sip from her cup as she looks at Maygen, who raises an eyebrow. Rather than speak, she shoves Maygen lightly, lowering back down into her seat. 

"And how is the night treating you both?" she asks, her eyes flickering between Maygen and Gerold. There is knowing in those purple eyes.

"We are well, cousin," Gerold says. He is smiling and does not think he will ever stop.

Maygen nods. "We are very well," she agrees. She loves Jaime with all of her heart, but Ser Gerold is a kind man, besides, and she thinks that Jaime won't mind if she spends the feast at his side.

"Good," Ashara says. Her eyes have drifted to Eddard Stark. A faint smile plays at her lips.

"It seems we have both found someone to catch our interest," Gerold says, drawing his cousin from her daze. "Is the quiet wolf as solemn as they say he is?"

Ashara's cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink."Well..." she says. "He was quite sweet, really, once he got to speaking."

Maygen chuckles, while Gerold laughs boisterously. They talk all through the feast. Jeyne does not return, but no one seems to notice.

Towards the end of the night, when the sun has sunk low behind the clouds, Rhaegar takes a place at the front of the hall. All eyes are on him as he offers a smile.

And then he begins to sing.

It is a song that no one has heard before, for Rhaegar wrote it himself. His voice is low and mournful.

Maygen stares in wonder as he sings it.

"High in the halls of the kings who are gone, Jenny would dance with her ghosts. The ones she had lost and the ones she had found. And the ones who had loved her the most. Ones who'd been gone for so very long she couldn't remember their names. They spun her around on the damp old stones, spun away all her sorrow and pain."

Maygen's eyes glitter with tears. Beneath the table, she has taken a tight hold of Gerold's hand. He squeezes her hand back as Rhaegar continues.

"And she never wanted to leave. Never wanted to leave. Never wanted to leave. Never wanted to leave."

Ashara is frozen in her seat.

The chatter that had overwhelmed the hall now was gone. It is deathly silent save for the sound of Rhaegar Targaryen singing.

"They danced through the day and into the night, through the snow that swept through the halls. From winter, to summer, then winter again, till the walls did crumble and fall. And she never wanted to leave. Never wanted to leave. Never wanted to leave. Never to leave."

Across the hall, Lyanna Stark, sat among her brothers, has begun to cry.

"And she never wanted to leave. Never wanted to leave. Never wanted to leave. Never wanted to leave."

Even King Aerys is quiet.

"High in the halls of the kings who are gone, Jenny would dance with her ghosts. The ones she had lost and the ones she had found and the ones who had loved her the most."

Rhaegar's eyes drift across the hall, waiting for a response. 

Everyone begins to applaud. Elia cheers for her husband from the high table. At the Starks table, young Benjen is laughing at his tearful sister. She responds by pouring the contents of her goblet over his head, flattening his black hair with the crimson liquid.

Maygen and Gerold share a look, eyes wide.

Rhaegar bows his head, smiling sheepishly.


	15. xii.

By all accounts, the tourney is going brilliantly. 

Lords Yohn Royce and Robert Baratheon fight valiantly in a melee until Yohn rises as the victor.

Lord Walter Whent's daughter holds the title of the Queen of Love and Beauty for several rounds of the jousting until her brothers and uncle are slowly but surely knocked down the lists.

A mystery knight joins for only a few rounds, beating competitors from houses Frey, Blount, and Haigh before King Aerys declares the man an enemy of the crown. He disappears from the joust and does not return.

Ser Gerold rides well, but arrogance is his downfall. He laughs at Yohn Royce's mare, who pales in comparison to his own stallion. But the win goes to Yohn, who has the advantage of speed and barrels into Ser Gerold with all the force of a warhorse in battle. The lad is thrown from the back of his stallion and taken to the castle's maester to check for a concussion. He is back in the stands the very next day with a bandage wrapped around his head and a vigor that neither his cousin nor Maygen expected.

Ser Barristan Selmy competes well. He wins round after round and the people cheer for him. 

Ser Arthur does well, but he cannot best Rhaegar Targaryen. Ashara laughs at her brother's defeat when he hits the dirt, and he shoots her a mocking sort of glare. 

Brandon Stark doesn't take his loss to the Silver Prince nearly as well. He sulks off of the pitch as his brothers and sister run to his side to try and encourage him.

Ser Barristan defeats Lord Yohn Royce in a close match. Gerold whines something about old men under his breath and earns a shove from Maygen that he takes in stride.

Finally, it comes down to two.

Prince Rhaegar's armor is shining silver in the sunlight as he stands at the end of the pitch. Ser Barristan looks gallant all in pearly white. 

Maygen waits with bated breath between Ser Gerold and Ashara, the former of whom clutches at her hand and watches excitedly. Ashara leans forward in her seat, her purple eyes ablaze with excitement. 

The horn blows and the two men charge.

Ser Barristan's lance shatters against Prince Rhaegar's breastplate, but the prince does not fall. They start again.

Ser Barristan earns a hard hit to his side and totters in his saddle, but he braces himself.

And so they begin again.

Barristan sways in his saddle. He very nearly falls but catches the reigns with one hand and pulls himself upright.

Determination is clear in Rhaegar's expression. Elia lets out a cheer for her husband, and he sends a flash of a smile in her direction.

One more charge.

Rhaegar hits hard against Ser Barristan, who very nearly stays in his saddle. He might have had his armor not dragged him down to the side.

He hits the ground with finality and the crowd roars with cheers. Elia is the loudest of all of them, clapping and cheering. In her lap, Rhaenys attempts to clap for her father, as well. 

A squire hurries out onto the pitch, handing Rhaegar a crown of winter roses, blue as frost. With it, Rhaegar will crown his Queen of Love and Beauty.

Everyone is smiling as they find Elia in the crowd. Sitting tall in her seat. Proud and waiting. She looks at Rhaegar with a grin on her face.

Rhaegar looks... strangely sad as he looks to his wife. He looks away from her just as quickly and begins to ride.

Everyone watches, all smiles still even though the applause has quieted a great deal. 

He rides past Elia and a hush falls over the crowd. 

No one is clapping anymore.

Rhaegar rides past Elia and he stops before Lyanna Stark.

And all the smiles die.

He lays the crown of winter roses in Lyanna's lap. He bows his head to her, silver hair falling into haunting indigo eyes, and he says in a voice that is nearly too quiet to hear, "My lady."

Lyanna's gray eyes are wide. She manages a weak smile. "Thank you, my prince," she says.

It is deathly quiet.

And then Robert Baratheon starts to laugh. 

Slowly but surely the crowd's applause returns. Maygen, Gerold, and Ashara make no moves. Instead, they all look to Elia, who stares at the ground, her hands curled so tightly around the arms of her chair that her knuckles are turning white.

Gerold is the first to speak, his voice soft, his words ringing with truth.

"He's lost his mind."

Maygen is shaking in her seat. She seizes Ashara's arm and held tight. When she is able to find words, her voice is choked with fear.

"This is going to end badly."


	16. xiii.

Maygen keeps her head down as she prepares to leave Harrenhal. The castle is quiet. Elia stayed in a separate room that night, and will likely do the same for the next. They are to leave on the morrow after one more grand feast. Jaime doesn't write. Something tells him that silence may be the right choice.

Maygen isn't sure she has another feast in her, but she's resigned herself to it. Only one more day. She can handle one more day.

Jeyne and Lord Tytos are almost inseparable. Maygen has ideas about what happened the night of the great feast, but she'll never tell a soul. Not when Jeyne is so convinced that she is going to wed Tytos. 

A lesser woman would reveal Jeyne's discretions.

Not Maygen.

She goes about the motions. She helps Elia get dressed for the day. She sits with her in the castle's library. Elia is quiet. Maygen reads to Rhaenys, but even the little child seems to understand that something is amiss. She stares up at Maygen with wide, dark eyes.

When night settles, Elia does not attend supper. Ashara brings her food, just to make sure that she eats.

Maygen invites Gerold to dine with her and her fellow handmaidens. He accepts and sits beside her at the table. He manages to make the girls laugh, a sound that feels so strange coming from Maygen's lips, but she is so thankful that he's done it.

He holds her hand beneath the table, a comforting gesture, really. When they have all finished eating, Maygen and Gerold are the last to rise. He takes her by the wrist and offers a smile.

"Stay for a moment? I had something to ask of you."

"Of course," she says, and she smiles in return.

It is hard not to smile at him.

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, almost. Maygen keeps a smile on her face, if not for her own sake, then for his. "You don't have to be anxious," she says. "I'd say that we've become friends during this time. Friends aren't this anxious speaking to each other."

He manages a laugh at that, nodding. "I suppose you are right about that." 

And yet he still seems so afraid.

He takes her other hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "I was thinking that, if your father approves, of course, we could be married."

Maygen freezes. Her smile falters.

"If that is all right with you," Gerold says quickly. "I just thought... maybe... I thought that maybe it would be a good match. You don't have to agree, I just... I thought..."

He trails off, hesitating before he goes quiet, waiting for Maygen to speak.

"I'm sorry," she says when she can finally find words. "I just wasn't expecting that."

"Of course," he says. "I should have given you a moment. I am sorry, Maygen."

"No, no," she says, shaking her head. She looks up at him, turquoise eyes meeting indigo. "I think... I think that I would be happy to marry you, Gerold."

He starts to smile. His grip on Maygen tightens. "Really?" he asks.

She nods.

"Yes. Yes, really. I would be happy to marry you, Gerold. I just don't know what my father would say."

He shakes his head. "We can figure out the details later. For now, we can just know that we both agree to it."

Maygen giggles at that. "All right," she agrees. "Then, for now, that's all we'll know."

"It is all we need to know," Gerold says.

Maygen nods slightly.

"We will run away to Dorne together if we must," Gerold says, only half-joking, but Maygen doesn't care, in fact, she agrees.

Only some years after this night, Maygen will think of what might have happened had they run away to Dorne. The Gods only know how their lives would have changed, but Maygen can only assume that it would be for the better. Perhaps scars that linger on her skin would not ever come to be. Perhaps scars that mar her mind would never have a chance to form.

Maygen hesitates a moment before she wraps her arms around Gerold's neck and kisses him.

That choice might just be the deciding factor of the course of her life. 

It is the choice that makes Gerold Dayne start to think that he is in love with Maygen Lannister.

It is the choice that makes Maygen Lannister start to think that it is no use loving one person if it can never be. 

It is the choice that makes sure that Maygen's honor remains, even after her maidenhead is taken that very night at Harrenhal, for what does it matter if she marries the man who takes it?

Maygen Lannister shares a second kiss with Gerold Dayne before they part the next morning, right there in front of Elia and Jeyne and Ashara and little Rhaenys. She offers him the pretty smile that so drew him to her the very first night.

He stands as a guard for the four ladies and the little princess when Lyanna Stark approaches with her head hung low and a crown of winter roses in her hands.

She is fearful but straightens when she is close enough. At merely fourteen years, she is almost as tall as Elia.

"My princess," she says. Her voice is soft. "I thought that I might... give this to you. It ought to be yours, anyway." She holds up the crown with pale, shaking fingers.

Ashara opens her mouth to speak, but whatever retort she's planned never gets to come because her cousin clamps a hand over her mouth. Elia takes a small step forward. She scans Lyanna up and down. "Keep it," she says, voice strangely firm. "Rhaegar deemed you more deserving. If it is his will, I will listen to it."

"Please," Lyanna says. "I'm sorry, my princess. I don't want it. Please, take it."

A weak smile plays at Elia's lips. She laughs, incredulous. "It is a pity. Lyanna Stark, so kind and modest. She does not want it. Well, my lady. You got it. Now, you will see what else it brings you."

Elia turns away from the Stark girl. Gerold releases Ashara, whose face is bright red as she tries to contain her words. Gods know that she wants to scream and shout at the little lady before them. How dare she approach them? How dare she think that Elia would ever accept her apology? How dare Rhaegar crown any woman but Elia, the most wonderful and beautiful and perfect woman that she has ever met?

But she doesn't say any of that. Instead, she lets Maygen take her by the arm and lead her to the wheelhouse. She sits in silence until they are a fair distance from Harrenhal and all of the terrible, and not so terrible, things that have happened.

She unleashes all of the anger that has been brewing since the day Rhaegar laid the crown in Lyanna Stark's lap.

Ashara may not be a dragon, but she is just as fiery. 

Elia sits calmly and listens. It is clear in her dark eyes that she feels the same, but she will never tell anyone. She is to be the Queen one day. She has to be proud and unfeeling and queenly.

Maygen sits with a piece of parchment in hand. She writes to Tywin. 

She pleads for a marriage once more.


	17. xiv.

King's Landing has never been more quiet than the day they arrive back from Harrenhal. The world moves at a sluggish pace. Elia and Rhaegar are on speaking terms but do not share their bed at night.

Elia's stomach swells with child. Only two more months, Maester Pycelle says, and while Elia wants desperately to return to Dragonstone to birth her second child, it is not an option. Pycelle is worried that she may not survive this pregnancy, especially after the toll that birthing Rhaenys took on her.

Maygen is not sure whether to be terrified or excited when the letter arrives from her father approving a marriage between her and Gerold.

His position as Hand has been given over to Lord Owen Merryweather. He placates the Mad King and does his duties well enough. Maygen thinks him a good enough man, but certainly not the man for the job.

She keeps her pending betrothal a secret from Jaime. She pretends that things are the same as they were two years ago when she was merely a girl of thirteen years who did not know the ways of court. She pretends that all is right in the world. That Elia and Rhaegar are as happy as ever and that Gerold Dayne is simply a faraway man from a faraway land that she could only hear about in storybooks.

Even as she writes her soon-to-be betrothed, she acts as if they are nothing but friends. She does not think about how she and Jaime's love blossomed over letters like these.

She does not even mention Gerold Dayne to Jaime when they take their morning walks through the gardens whenever Jaime can find a moment away from the king's side. There is no use in angering her brother, her love, the most wonderful man she knows, second now, perhaps, only to Gerold Dayne.

Even as Tywin arranges all the details. Maygen will wed Gerold she is sixteen. A year's time. It seems so far away to Maygen even as the months pass and the time ebbs away.

Jaime can't know.

The morning that Rhaegar kidnaps Lyanna Stark, Maygen wants more than anything to throw herself from the Tower of the Hand.

He was a good man, she thinks to herself in the cold nights that tell the lie of the year's spring. He was always a good man. He was supposed to save us. He was supposed to be good. 

All of the nights where she would hear the screams of purported traitors and tell herself that things would be different when Rhaegar was king, all of them are for nothing. 

The night they learn the news, Elia goes into labor. It is the stress, Pycelle says. The shock.

Shock and stress it may be, but Elia nearly dies. She lays in her birthing bed with her handmaidens huddled around her, for Rhaegar cannot be there, no, Rhaegar is in Dorne, hiding away with a girl of fifteen years in some rotten tower that will forever leave a sour taste on Maygen's tongue when she speaks of it, for if Rhaegar had never gone there then perhaps Maygen would still have friends that are still living in the years after.

Elia nearly dies but as if the realm cares for that. All that they care about is the son that comes of it. Aegon Targaryen, the sixth of his name, the future King of the Seven Kingdoms.

The realm may not care, but Elia's handmaidens do. They sit with her in her chambers. They warn Maester Pycelle when her temperature rises, warning them of infection. They sit with her and pray to the Mother and the Maiden and any other God that can help them.

They sing songs to Elia when the Dornish Princess starts to feel better. They work together to make a tapestry for her room, the speared sun of House Martell. They bring her flowers from the gardens. Never roses. They bring her Dornish wine when she is strong enough to stomach it. She thanks them time and time again for all of the kindnesses they have shown her and they dote upon her. 

Jeyne is distant most days. Away in her own little world, writing to Tytos Blackwood, planning a wedding that will never come, though she does not know that yet and will not know it for another year yet.

Maygen and Ashara write to Gerold. They tell him about the future king, who he is the image of his father, though his eyes favor blue over purple. 

Brandon Stark reroutes from his own wedding to the capital.

Maygen stands with Ashara and Jeyne in the throne room as he demands that Rhaegar return his sister. They are there the morning that Rickard Stark arrives to support his son. 

They are there the day that Aerys declares a Trial by Combat for Rickard's treasons.

His competitor; fire.

And they are there the morning that Rickard Stark hangs suspended over the throne rooms and roasts alive in his armor, as Brandon struggles uselessly to get to his sword, to cut his father down and save him. They watch the Wild Wolf strangle himself to death, restrained by the cord around his neck.

They watch Aerys laugh and laugh and laugh.

It is that day that Aerys demands the heads of Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon.

Jaime stays with Maygen that night. He lies beside her and holds her in his arms as she cries.

The morning brings a letter from Jon Arryn, who holds Eddard and Robert as his wards.

He refuses the king's demands.

That is the start of the war.

Maygen receives a letter one morning from Gerold.

She reads it in the gardens as the sky seems to bleed a red sunset. Gerold's words speak a truth that Maygen will think of often in the years following.

Rhaegar does not even know what he's started.


	18. xv.

Queen Rhaella is pregnant and the realm is at war. Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark amass troops in the Stormlands and the Vale. The Redwynes and the Tyrells side with the Targaryens. The Dornish side with the dragons only in word. They send no troops, no soldiers or ships. Tywin Lannister sides with no one and unsettles the already unstable king.

Maygen and Jaime become suspect in King's Landing. Maygen swears her fealty over and over to King Aerys, who takes private audience with her, her only protection being the Kingsguard, but there are limits even for them of what they will do to save her.

Jaime stays silent and does his duties as a man of the Kingsguard. He cannot show his fear, cannot show that his father's silence has hurt him at all. This is a time of faking feelings and lies.

The world has collapsed in on itself and Maygen is trying with all of her might to not allow it to crush her.

She writes to Gerold and begs for the Gods to grant her a miracle. She prays to fall asleep one night and awaken in Dorne at Gerold's side, safe and content and far away from all of the pain this war has caused.

Jaime finds her letters one night before they fall asleep. He reads her sweet words to the kind Dornish man who has taken her maidenhead and promises to marry her when all is settled in the world. When the war is ended, Gerold writes, then I will have you. 

When the war is ended, we can have true peace.

When the war is ended, I can truly love you.

He burns them the next morning while Maygen spends her day with Elia, unaware of the hateful thing her brother has done.

Maygen is shaking with rage when she sees their scraps in the fire, burned away to embers. 

"How could you?!" she screams at Jaime when he acts as if he's done nothing wrong. When he acts like what he's done is perfectly justifiable.

"I love you!" he answers.

They are the only words he can find in that moment but they are not enough for Maygen. No sweet words will ever be enough to make her forgive him.

"They were my letters! My private letters!"

"You should have told me!"

There is anger in her eyes, mingling with her tears, burning inside of them. "I planned to tell you! But if you haven't noticed, Jaime, we are at war!"

"You knew long before this! You gave up your honor for him like some common whore!"

Maygen slaps him then. Hard. Across the face, splitting his lip in the process. He stands still as she breaks down in tears, fists pounding against his chest, a flurry of strikes that will ache and leave bruises but Jaime just lets her. She screams and cries and calls him all manner of horrible names that she can think of. She curses him for being so cruel and curses herself for ever loving him.

And when her tears have drowned her, she sinks to her knees and lets him hold her in his arms as she sobs out, "I don't want to die, Jaime."

He nestles his face in her hair and kisses her head. His heart is racing in his chest.

"I won't let you die."

The forces battle at Gulltown and Summerhall and Ashford. Owen Merryweather's position as Hand is stripped away and given to Lord Jon Connington. Lord Owen is exiled from the Seven Kingdoms and no one hears from him again.

Rhaegar returns from Dorne. He stops for only a day in King's Landing. He does not speak to Elia. Instead, her handmaidens force an audience upon him.

He looks tired as they demand that he stay. Stay and meet his son, the child that Elia very nearly died to give him, his heir, should he survive this wretched war.

He refuses and is gone without any goodbyes the next morning. 

At the raid of the town of Stony Sept, his forces are unable to capture Robert Baratheon. The Battle of the Bells yields no results save for the near-death of Jon Connington after Eddard Stark arrives with the Tully army.

Jon is stripped of his titles and exiled. Qarlton Chelstead becomes the new Hand.

Aerys commands the pyromancers to place caches of wildfire beneath the Red Keep.

Should Robert Baratheon attempt to sack the city, he will be met with a nasty surprise.

Lord Eddard Stark marries Lady Catelyn Tully. Lord Jon Arryn marries Lady Lysa Tully.

The Riverland lords flock to their side.

Doran Martell gathers ten thousand Dornishmen to join Rhaegar's army. Lewyn Martell is sent to join the fighting. His sweet niece Elia is his leverage. Should he not perform well in battle, the princess will meet her end.

Maygen spends her days with Jeyne and Ashara in Elia's chambers. They pray to the Gods for a swift end to the war that has already gone for far too long. They pray for their fighting friends and family.

Maygen prays for Gerold, bold and gallant and brave and stupid, who writes her one last letter before he sets out with the Dornish troops.

Ashara leaves merely days before the chaos, returning to Dorne in the hopes to see her family before tragedy strikes.

Gerold promises Ashara and Maygen that he will live, but the Gods only know what will happen to him.

Robert Baratheon declares his claim to the Iron Throne.

Prince Rhaegar's troops meet Robert Baratheon's at the Trident.

And the rest is history.


	19. xvi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger Warning: This chapter contains a semi-graphic scene of r*pe. If this could be harmful or triggering in any way, I would suggest skipping over this chapter.*Trigger Warning: This chapter contains some forms of sexual assault and physical abuse. If this could be harmful or triggering in any way, I would suggest skipping over this chapter.*
> 
> (Note: where the asterisks [*] are placed, the triggering scene starts and ends.)

Rhaegar Targaryen dies at the Battle of the Trident. He fights until the very end. The battle is brutal and bloody.

At the very middle of it all, Rhaegar finds himself across from the traitor Robert Baratheon. 

It is a close fight, but the winner is clear.

Rhaegar manages a slice to Robert's leg that will leave the future king with a limp for the rest of his life. But even that does not stop him.

Robert Baratheon's warhammer caves in Prince Rhaegar's breastplate as easily as a seagull breaks a clamshell on the rocks. 

Rubies fly like drops of blood from the chest of the dying prince, and he sinks to his knees in the water and with his last breath murmurs a woman's name.

It is not Elia's name, but Lyanna's. 

Lewyn Martell and Jonothor Darry meet their ends on the field. Ser Barristan is taken captive, wounded but still alive.

Only two weeks prior, Lord Qarlton was burned alive for his resignation as Hand. Head Pyromancer Rossart holds the position proudly when it all comes to a head. Queen Rhaella is sent to Dragonstone with Prince Viserys.

The Targaryen host breaks formation and turns tail back toward King's Landing.

They bring the battle right to the Red Keep's door with Eddard Stark right at their back.

The Stark troops are intercepted only by mere miles by Tywin Lannister and a host of twelve thousand strong.

Maygen watches through the window of Elia's room. She sees her father's men and hopes that things will be better.

They won't be.

Lord Varys, Master of Whispers, councils Aerys to keep the gates shut. Maester Pycelle suggests otherwise.

Aerys opens the gates.

It is a massacre.

The westerland troops have reached the castle by the time Maygen acts. She takes Jeyne and Elia by the hands and they make for Maegor's Holdfast.

They lose Rhaenys somewhere in the chaos. She is holding Jeyne's hand one moment, and the next, she is gone. Elia holds Aegon in her free arm and begs Maygen to search for her.

"I'm sorry," Maygen says as she urges the Dornish princess down the winding hallways of the Red Keep, down toward the castle's bowels. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Elia is a mess of tears. Behind Maygen, Jeyne is panicked. "They're everywhere," she says, her voice weak, her face terribly pale. "We won't make it, Maygen, we won't. We are going to die here."

"We'll be fine!" Maygen cries. She pushes Elia forward, staring back at her friend. "We will make it! We'll be all right!"

Elia is rounding a corner when it happens. Maygen sees, but Elia does not.

A Lannister soldier, armor covered with blood, a sword tight in his grip.

Jeyne is horribly silent when the blade runs her through.

A scream tears out of Maygen's throat, a sound that is so foreign to her, animalistic and scared and angry.

Her knees threaten to buckle beneath her as she pulls free of Jeyne's deathly tight grip, but she has to keep moving. She owes that to Elia. It is all she can do. 

"What has happened?" Elia demands, trying to turn and see as Maygen keeps silent. "Maygen, what is wrong? Please, what has happened? Is Jeyne all right?"

"She's fine," Maygen says, the only lie she has told Elia Martell in her life. It will be the only lie she ever tells her.

Maygen thanks the Gods when they find the holdfast empty. She pulls Elia inside and locks the door behind them.

It is only then that Elia realizes they have lost yet another companion.

She succumbs to tears, her voice strained. "We have to go back for Rhaenys. We have to go back for her. We have to find her. We have to make sure she is safe."

Maygen draws her to sit down beside her. "We have to make sure that Aegon is safe," she says. "You need to be safe." Her voice is just as weak, trembling with tears, but she has to be strong enough for the both of them now.

She is not a child anymore.

In the throne room, Aerys Targaryen demands that Jaime bring him Tywin's head. He urges Rossart to ignite the wildfire. The pyromancer is mad enough to do it, but he doesn't get a chance.

Jaime runs him through with his sword. When the Mad King turns to run, Jaime stabs him through the back. Aerys sinks to his knees and Jaime cuts his throat for good measure.

The mad Targaryens always claimed they would be reborn as dragons.

He climbs the steps to the Iron Throne and sits upon it with the start of a smile on his face. A lion cub experiencing his first taste of blood.

In Rhaegar's chambers, Rhaenys is dragged out from beneath the bed by Gregor Clegane.

Ser Armory Lorch is the one who does the terrible deed. He stabs the child princess in the back half a hundred times.

The reason; she bit him.

And in Maegor's Holdfast, Maygen Lannister holds Elia Martell's hands while the little prince Aegon sits in her lap and listens to the two women pray. They pray for safety. For peace. They know it will never be, but it feels better to pray for it.

Only when the door begins to shake in its frame do they quiet.

Outside, Gregor Clegane pounds away at the wood with bare fists. The door shatters and breaks with every hit.

It slams open to reveal his hulking form. Amory Lorch stands behind him with a sword at the ready.

Maygen at first tries to appeal to their reason. She is a Lannister. She is the daughter of their liege lord. If they spare her, if they spare Elia, she will ask her father to give them lands, titles, anything they could ever desire.

*Gregor kills Aegon first. He pulls Aegon from Maygen's arm as she and Elia scream and beg. "He is only a child! He has done nothing wrong!"

It is not little Aegon's war, but still, he dies for it. Maygen can only close her eyes and scream until her throat is hoarse as Gregor dashes the infant against the wall.

She will think later of that moment and tell herself, at least he died faster than all the rest of us.

It is Elia's turn next but Gregor does not grant her the mercy of a quick death. Maygen hears only the screams as Amory Lorch turns his attention to her.

Maygen comes away bleeding and ruined and ravaged, her dress torn away entirely, nothing but scraps for her to cling to as she draws her knees to her chest and pleads for it all to end, for Amory to plunge his sword into her heart and be done with it.

He takes her in any way he can imagine. Long after Elia's screams have silenced he continues.

Maygen can say nothing when it is all over. When her legs are sticky with blood, her thighs marred with handprint bruises and her hair a tangle from his wandering hands.*

She is silent there on the floor, covered in her blood and tears. She is silent as Armory Lorch slices her wrists near to the bone. She is silent even as Gregor and Amory leave her for dead with nothing but Elia and Aegon's corpses for company.

She has always hated silence, and now she has good reason.


	20. xvii.

Maygen Lannister tries as hard as she can to die. She tries to conjure the Maiden in her consciousness, the Stranger close behind. She pictures the Mother, holding her hand out to her.

She imagines that if she closes her eyes and waits, she will never awaken. She hopes for it as her vision goes out of focus. For a moment she is just staring at Elia's bloody and broken corpse. She reaches out to her and takes her hand, lacing her fingers through Elia's.

It hurts to move.

It hurts to breathe.

She is cold. 

She is bleeding. 

She is dying.

Elia is gone already. Maygen knows that for certain. But still, she clutches at her friend's hand, staring at her. She wishes that Elia could look peaceful. That she could look as if she were only sleeping, not so painfully, truly, dead looking.

This is not how the war was supposed to go.

There was never supposed to be a war in the first place.

Rhaegar was supposed to be the Silver Prince. The man who would save them from Aerys' madness. He was supposed to take the throne from his cruel and wicked father and he was supposed to rule the Seven Kingdoms justly and fairly. 

And instead, he crowned Lyanna Stark the Queen of Love and Beauty.

Instead, he started a war.

He started a war and now he and his wife and his son and his daughter are dead.

Maygen closes her eyes when the sight of Elia's still body becomes too much for her. She squeezes her friend's hand.

She drifts away.

It is Jaime who finds her some hours later, after it is all over and Robert has gotten the news. The sight of her makes him want to break down in tears.

Bleeding. Bruised. Pale as death and curled into a ball, clutching desperately at Elia's hand.

She is unmoving.

For a moment, Jaime thinks that she is dead. He falls to the floor beside her and pulls her into his arms. He holds her there, uncaring as her blood stains his armor. He buries his face in her hair and holds her there as tears begin to fall down his cheeks. "Maygen," he sobs into her golden locks. "Oh, Gods, Maygen. May..."

She takes a breath. Weak, shuddering, but a breath all the same.

And Jaime screams. He screams for someone to send a maester, for someone to come and help, for someone to do something, because she is bleeding and she is dying and she needs help.

And when that is no use, he carries her up the stairs to the throne room. Tywin Lannister stands with Eddard Stark. They speak in hushed tones, not even noticing that he is there. The only thing alerting them of his presence is the blood that falls from Maygen onto the floor.

Eddard peers past Tywin, his gray eyes going wide as he realizes. "Seven Hells," he whispers.

Tywin turns to see and it is as if he had forgotten that Maygen was ever there. He stares at his daughter, fifteen years old, held tight in Jaime's protective grip, bleeding and bruised and broken.

His voice is strangely weak. He swallows back what might just be sobs. 

"Maygen?"

Jaime nods slowly. Words fail him.

"She was with Elia? In the holdfast?"

Another nod. Her body is unbearably heavy in his arms. 

"What happened?"

Jaime scoffs. The sound tears out of his throat. "What does it look like, Father?"

Tywin shakes his head. "Find Maester Pycelle."

That is the end of it. Tywin asks no more questions. He does not visit Maygen's chambers. He does not sit by her side as Pycelle cleans and stitches her cuts and puts a poultice on the nasty bruises between her legs. He pretends that it never happened.

It is Jaime who sits with her, holding her hand, feeling the warmth slowly return to her skin as Pycelle piles blankets upon her. He gives the old maester his best attempt at a smile and thanks him when he says that it's all he can do.

Maygen doesn't wake for days. Robert Baratheon arrives in the capital. He starts to dictate how things will be now that he can take the throne. 

Cersei and Tyrion come from Casterly Rock. It feels like an eternity since Jaime has seen them last. He decides that Maygen will wake in her own time. He has to let her rest. 

He takes Tyrion riding through the Kingswood. 

Maygen still has not woken when Robert is crowned the King. She does not see him marry Cersei, making her elder sister the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

So much happens while Maygen Lannister is away in her own world, a world without pain, without feeling. She sleeps soundly. Pycelle keeps her surviving on milk of the poppy. 

No one knows if she will ever wake.


End file.
